


Sleeping on the Sea

by Elle



Category: Chronicles of Elyria
Genre: Chronicles of Elyria - Freeform, Death, Emotional, Fantasy, Fire, Heroes, Legends, MMORPGs, Ocean, Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Sea, Short, Travel, Villains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-18 23:58:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12398910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elle/pseuds/Elle
Summary: Every great tale has a prelude, and every hero (or villain) has a beginning. Hers began on the sea, among fire and salt, beneath a moonless sky.





	Sleeping on the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> 10/17/2017 08:55 PM. This is my first time sharing a creative story online. Thank you for taking a look.

      The dock creaked and whined beneath her boots. For just a faint moment, it sounded as though the waterlogged planks were screaming at her, _turn back, turn back._ But she pressed on, the sack slung over her back weighing heavily on her, the stink of drying fish filling her nostrils, and the salt of the sea upon her lips like a wet kiss. She would not miss the stench of the docks, or the pirates with their golden teeth, or even the setting sun resting just above the bays waters, no, she was a fish too big for this small pond. The isles were all she had known, and she desired more- mountains, green plains, fields of grain, and frozen rain; a land that offered great danger and equally great rewards, the place across the sea where heroes and legends are made, where kings and queens rule from stone castles… Elyria.

      The _Proud_ was the largest ship in port, its dark red sails blustering in the ocean wind, the insignia of the Blood Brotherhood stitched prominently in its center; two crossed scimitars forged in gold. The Brotherhood has brothers from all backgrounds that can prove their worth; mercenaries, sailors, merchants, laborers, explorers, builders, craftsmen, landless lords, hedge knights, and the like. The _Proud_ was a merchant’s ship, with two hulls filled with fruit, salted fish, pearls and sunset shells, dark wines, and barrels of shrimp. The merchants of the Brotherhood traded regularly with Elyria, offering exotic wares found only in the isles, in exchange for metals, gems and jewels, and wood to go towards funding the Brotherhood.

      The merchant-captain was a dusky man with a pointed, yellow beard, and large, blue eyes, the shade of blue you see only on the ocean. He wore white linen from his neck to his white boots, the only color he wore being a dark red sash tied tight around his waist, below his enormous belly. When he spoke, he’d put his hands on his hips and the chins beneath his mouth would wobble with each word. Though strange in appearance, he was not unkind; he spoke with soft words and laughed often. His blue eyes lit with familiar joy when she walked onto the deck. He took her hands in his and kissed both her cheeks, his mouth wet with salt air.

      “My sweet, sweet sea-daughter,” he said it like a song, “your smile brings me much happiness, child. The lands of Elyria will bloom with your presence when you step onto its shores.” The merchant-captain had many sea-daughters and sons, children who lost their families with no one in the world to shelter them, but he favored her above all his sea-children, and could not refuse her request to leave their isle home for the mainland.

      Nothing on the isles tempted her to stay. Her mother and father died when she was only a child, and she’d already tossed both her brothers into the sea, their lives and dreams extinguished. Their faces swam up before her in the reflection of the water, their pairs of brown eyes soft and sad, not the eyes she had known them to have in life, their grave faces not the bright, hopeful boys she fondly remembered. She pulled her eyes away from their faces, she would not mourn them, no, not now, not so long after their deaths. It had been their dream, the three of them, to leave the isles and find new adventures across the sea. But the sea had other plans. Now it was only her dream to fulfill.

      The sun had just risen, alone in a cloudless orange-streaked sky. “That is where Elyria waits for you… in the sun.” The merchant-captain pointed with jeweled fingers into the horizon. “This is to help you begin your new life, sea-daughter.” The large coin purse he placed in her hands was more than help; it was a small fortune. She kissed both his plump cheeks, eminently grateful. “The East wind has come, and it is time for you to go.” Tears were in his eyes when he watched the ship sail from the harbor. Swift wind and safe sail to you, he wished on the wind.

      Her sea-father had only the best seafarers on board, and each one was more competent than the one before. She’d lived most her life working on deck, and she intended to busy herself with labor, but the crew refused to let the sea-daughter of their employer dirty her hands.

      Four nights of the sail were on calm water. All onboard agreed they were free of peril, the risk of a storm had passed. But she knew better, she knew that the Elyrian Sea was warmer than the Eastern and that warmer waters proved more likely for a storm, especially in the months before what Elyrians call winter. “I’ve been on a hundred sails through these waters, don’t worry a bone for a storm that’s not coming,” the captain said to her. But she had sailed in these waters as well and lost both her brothers in it. The storm that was not coming was upon them in the night, with no warning and no mercy.

      The waves pounded against the ship with such force the sea spouted through the cracks between the planks, leaking into the hull of the ship like a fresh cut. She awoke swaying in her hammock to the screams of the men above on deck. Instantly she was alert and knee-high in water, slinging her sack over her shoulder and wading to the stairs leading up to the deck.

      There was no moon. There were no stars. Only white lightning lit the black sky. Waves broke against the ship and with each hit more and more water spilled onto the deck, pulling men overboard with each vicious sway. Lightning shook the sea and roaring thunder filled her ears, but her eyes saw clearly. It was like all those years ago when the ocean pulled her brothers below its waters and replaced the breath in their lungs with water.

      She cut the rope fastening the barrels holding the shrimp, and they rolled across the deck, crushing one man and toppling another overboard. A bolt of lightning struck the red sails above, igniting the whole mast into flames. Wood creaked and tore as the mast fell, crashing onto the deck. The ship tilted fiercely to the weight and the rest of the barrels rolled over the side, the empty ones floating atop the water.

      She couldn’t see the men dying and burning around her, but she heard and smelled their seared flesh, and felt a hand fasten around her ankle, a lightning bolt revealing a man holding onto wet planks, dangling through the deck. The ship was sinking, and the empty barrels floating further and further away. “I’m sorry,” she said over the roar of thunder before crushing his grasping hand with her boot, giving him a sure death of drowning. She dove after the nearest floating barrel, the ship sinking behind her, the shouts of the dying men following her across the water through salt and smoke.

      She was the only one to reach shore. She crawled from the shallows, her fingers clawing into the soft sand, reaching, pulling, gasping for each breath. The tide now only barely reaching her, she laid on her back and stared into the dark sky, stars scattered like diamonds across the vast black. The moon was not out. All the world was black, empty, and quiet, except for the push and pull of the ocean, her ragged breaths, and the glinting stars. All her possessions were lost to the merciless sea, but her life still hers. Perhaps the sea is not so merciless after all, she thought. It had drowned the rest, but it carried me to shore, like a mother leading a child by the hand.

      She left her heart on the shore with the ocean.


End file.
